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BaldyThis afternoon we celebrated my brother-in-law Bervin’s birthday with a lunchtime party. Between plates of pot roast and birthday cake, Klaus posed an interesting question to Bervin’s grandchildren Ruby (4) and Beck (6). They’d been focusing on Emerald, who is close-to-bald at 9 months, wondering when she would get a decent head of hair.

Klaus said, “Ruby, you were a bald baby like that, too. What’s your favorite memory from that time?”

Ruby looked at him with a blank stare and couldn’t respond. But when Birgitta said, “Probably that you didn’t have to comb your hair every day,” she smiled. “All I did was ride around in a car seat,” she said.

Beck and Ruby

Beck, answering the same question said, “I remember that I didn’t have to do anything.” Of course their answers were fabricated, since neither one of them could remember being a baby.

Most peoples’ earliest memories are from the time they were 2 or 3 years old, but God doesn’t let us remember all the way back to zero. Maybe he doesn’t want us recalling the misery of birth, and every woman who’s ever delivered a baby would call that wisdom.

Baby brain

More likely we can’t recollect babyhood because the memory parts of our brains aren’t fully developed then. Babies don’t have language, either, to describe their experiences. Nevertheless God endowed each one with a complicated brain, all set to go. On most days we take this incredible gift for granted.

What about the brain(s) of the Trinity? Since Jesus was fully human, surely he had a brain much like ours. But what about his divine brain?

Although we forget nearly everything that happens in our first two years and tend to forget even adult memories if we live long enough, God never forgets a thing. Putting him into a memory grid of forgetting and remembering, though, is humanizing the divine. He knows everything about everything, and we believe that. But then what are we to do with the Scripture that says he “forgets our sins” once they’re confessed?

He actually says it 3 times (in both Old and New Testaments). Does this simply mean he voluntarily decides not to remind us or nag us about our past sins after we’ve repented of them?

Maybe it’s something even better than that.

Maybe he literally wills himself to forgetfulness and “remembers our sins no more” (as the Bible says) to make our forgiveness absolutely thorough. And then if Satan should come before him to accuse us, he can honestly say, “No…. I don’t have any memory of Margaret committing that sin. She’s clean on that one” (because of Jesus).

This possibility gives me goose bumps and inspires me to keep short accounts with God. And maybe his forgetting our sins isn’t that much different than Ruby and Beck forgetting what it was like to be babies…

…none of them have any memory of it.

“I will be merciful to their unrighteousness, and their sins and their iniquities will I remember no more.” (Hebrews 8:12)

C’mon and dance with me!

Nate and I didn’t know how to dance. The first reason was that he struggled to find any sense of rhythm or beat. When he was in the Army, I remember attending a parade demonstration at Fort Knox, Kentucky. Hundreds of uniformed soldiers passed in front of us, marching in perfect step to the leader’s cadence…. except one. Despite all those soldiers wearing identical clothes, I found Nate immediately.

The second reason we were dance-ignorant was that I was raised to believe dancing was wrong. I had to sign a statement when I became a 16 year old member of my church, promising not to dance (among other things). Later when I chose a conservative Christian college, I signed a similar pledge.

Throughout my childhood, I wasn’t allowed to attend dance classes or school dances, nor could I listen to dance music. It mystified me, since Mom was adventuresome and loved music herself.

Then one day, while I was jumping around to “oldies” music at home, the real truth came out. Mom was watching me cavort to the beat and said, “It’s too bad we don’t believe in dancing. You’d be good at it.”

I realized then that all the no-dancing rules were just that: written rules she was trying to obey on the outside while on the inside she’d been dancing all those years. Though the policy didn’t change, figuring that out made me feel a lot better.

The bottom line was that neither Nate nor I ever learned to dance, not even after we decided it wasn’t really wrong. But we did learn to fake it enough to shuffle around a wedding reception dance floor, at least on the slower tunes.

All of us can get caught up in the letter of a law and then miss the spirit of it. That’s  a serious offense, as Jesus pointed out to the biblical Pharisees. Their 600 rigid religious laws had strayed far from what God had intended when he gave the 10 commandments. So Jesus straightened it out with 2 new commands that swept away all the pharisaical add-ons. “Love God, and love others.”

Those aren’t always easy to do, but they’re easy to understand. And if we put all our actions through that grid, the result will be lives lived in the gracious spirit of the law.

These days I still don’t know how to dance, but a year ago, my cousin Calvin and I decided to try our luck at jitterbugging. Jumping around a wedding reception dance floor in no particular pattern might not have been real dancing, but for the two of us non-dancers, it turned out to be an awful lot of fun.

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself. All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” (Matthew 22:37-40)

Sense or Non-sense?

Nate's album of carsBlogging yesterday about Nate’s photo album full of car pictures got me thinking. In every family a car purchase is a big deal. Sometimes the biggest deal isn’t a fancy new car but a “junker,” significant because it’s someone’s first car, bought with their own money as a teenager. Other times the big deal is a first new-not-used car, or someone’s first sports car.

As I thumbed through the album pages yesterday, my vote for biggest-deal cars went to the ones that had been in accidents. Though cars were damaged, drivers and passengers weren’t.

Nelson was safe.Like the time Nelson was driving on a country road as a college senior, studying a map. When he looked up, it was too late to avoid hitting a phone truck parked half-on and half-off the road. The car was totaled, but the driver’s seat and driver were intact.

Or the time Hans fell asleep behind the wheel driving home for a family reunion, rolling his car 3 times before landing upsidedown. A totaled car but not a scratch on Hans.

Or a potentially fatal accident when a car turned in front of Linnea, causing her to crash head-on into a concrete bridge support.

Birgitta was safe.Or the time Birgitta’s hood flew up against her windshield, blinding her view at 70 mph. It could have been fatal, but she was unharmed.

Or Klaus, unable to stop when a lady turned in front of him, crashing into her. Another totaled vehicle.

Or the time Lars was driving and his wheel dipped into a ditch, coming to an abrupt stop on a concrete pipe in the ground. The rounded imprint of his head and his passenger’s (Nelson) remained in the shattered windshield.

It’s those pictures that mean the most, difficult as it is to look at them. None of us can prepare for accidents which are, by definition, unexpected. But can we be ready in the sense of knowing what we’ll do in the aftermath?

Any one of our family accidents could have turned out differently, and there’s no guarantee they won’t in the future. I lost a close cousin to a car crash when she was 17 and a precious niece at 23. The question is, how do we cope with such seemingly random, unfair tragedies?

News reports are full of them every day, and none of us are exempt from accidents and the damage and loss they cause. (Ecclesiastes 9:12) When they happen, the first thing we want to do is make sense of the circumstances, and  that’s often impossible. But there is one rational thing we can do, and that’s run to God. He calms and comforts whether things make sense or not. Maybe especially when they don’t.

So as I closed the album, hoping no further accidents will ever occur, if they do, I know exactly what to do.

Ugh“I take limitations in stride, and with good cheer, these limitations that cut me down to size—abuse, accidents, opposition, bad breaks. I just let Christ take over! And so the weaker I get, the stronger I become.” (2 Corinthians 12:10, The Message)